Comfort
by Ilyusha
Summary: G1. Slash. IronhidexRatchet. It was always an effort convincing Ratchet to leave the medical bay in someone else’s hands while he took care of himself, but sometimes the effort was well rewarded.


Warnings: Vague insinuations to mech smex.  
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I've forgotten…  
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.  
Authors Notes: Okay, so this can be seen to be in the same series as Protection and was written for _xaefryl_ because she wanted to see some Ironhide/Ratchet lovin'. And I know the title sucks, but it was the one I came up with just after I'd started the fic, but then things took a different turn and my brain won't let me change the name :sigh:

* * *

"I'm not draggin' you outta here by your chevron."  
"I am not leaving while there are still patients here Ironhide!"

"They're all recharging Ratch', which is exactly what you should be doing!"

"I'm not arguing with you Ironhide."  
"Yes you are."

"Am not." Ratchet retorted immediately before realising how childish the whole argument was.

"Look Ratch' you need to recharge. You ain't no use to anyone if you run yourself into the ground."

"I have a job to do."  
"You've got nothing to do. Every 'bot here is repaired and recharging. The only one left you've got to do something about is me." Ironhide sent his partner a pleading look, hoping the medic would realise the futility of his argument. Ratchet vented a sigh and dropped his head.

"Fine. I'll leave for some recharge."

"Good. Had something else in mind too." Ironhide grinned, shepherding Ratchet out of the medical bay.

88088088088088088

It was only once they got back to their quarters that Ratchet realised exactly what Ironhide had in mind. Deftly, he grabbed Ironhide's hand before it could roam too far, ignoring the disappointed noise Ironhide made as he did so.

"Believe me, it's not that I don't want to. I'm just liable to fall into stasis on you if we do." He whispered, knowing exactly what reaction the admission would get.

"What? You never told me you were that fraggin' low." Ironhide wrenched his hand out of Ratchet's grip, stalking across the room to the energon dispensor, quickly filling a cube and handing it to the medic. He watched closely as Ratchet drank it all.

"When you gonna learn to take care of yourself Ratch'?"

"I do." Ratchet made a half-hearted attempt to defend himself as Ironhide passed him another cube.

"How low are your energy levels?" Ratchet didn't answer the question, choosing to concentrate on the new energon cube. Ironhide pulled him over to their berth, sitting on the edge of it.

"You know I don't like it when you do this Ratch'."

"I…" There was nothing Ratchet could say to that. The same argument occurred over and over again. Time and time again he would leave it until the very last minute to refuel and recharge, running himself dangerously low; considering his patients more important than himself. He had to make sure that all his patients were stable before he even thought of refuelling. The mere thought that he might lose one while he took time to care for himself weighed heavily on his spark. It wasn't unusual for him to recharge in the medical bay, alarms for each of his patients wired in to his own system so that he was ready if any of them tried to make an unscheduled trip to the Matrix.

"Stop thinking about it." Ironhide warned gently.

"I'm not… all right, I can't help it. Primus only knows what could happen while I'm not there."

"There are other medics who can look after them Ratch'."

"I know…" The admission always hurt; he was reluctant to leave his patients in someone else's care, no matter how competent they were. He was the Chief Medical Officer, they were his responsibility.

"Ratchet…" There was more force in Ironhide's tone this time and Ratchet shook his head before looking at Ironhide.

"It's not that I think they can't cope…"

"It's that you care too much. And believe me, I ain't complaining about it." Ever so carefully, he traced the line of Ratchet's jaw, revelling at the feel of the soft pliant metal underneath his fingertips.

"Stop playing and just kiss me." Ratchet growled. Ironhide just laughed and continued tracing his fingers across Ratchet's chassis, the pressure just heavy enough so Ratchet could feel it, but light enough so it did nothing but tease.

"You ain't the boss in here Ratch'." He whispered softly against Ratchet's audios before moving to kiss the medic, smiling as he felt the other relax.

"That's better." He murmured, changing position and pulling Ratchet with him so they were both lying on the berth.

Hands roamed over familiar and similar forms, touching, teasing and stroking. Fields flexed and crackled sending rays of light dancing across their chassis. Desperately, Ironhide held back as long as he could; determined to take Ratchet crashing into overload with him.

With a loud groan, Ironhide overloaded, clutching Ratchet to him, revelling in the vibrations of his lover's engine as he too overloaded.

They lay entwined as their cooling systems worked to bring down their internal temperatures, neither having the energy nor inclination to move.

"Hate having to drag you away from medical…" Ironhide murmured, voice husky against Ratchet's audios.

"It's worth it."


End file.
